


Hopelessly Falling For You

by IambicKentameter



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Pillow Talk, Pining, Shower Sex, magical snowball fights, snow at hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-05-12 22:47:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5683906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IambicKentameter/pseuds/IambicKentameter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some Hogwarts drabbles surrounding Arthur and Eames, beginning their 5th year at Hogwarts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How They Meet

  

Arthur and Eames meet in their shared potions class midway through their fourth year, six weeks before christmas Holiday.

Eames had slid onto the stool next to Arthur, leaning against the desk with the most suave grin he could muster.

Arthur, without looking up from his muggle history textbook, spoke up. “That seat is for my potions partner, not you.”

“Dom Cobb is your partner, right?” Eames rested his head on a hand, propping it up against the table. “That French girl he likes saw him chatting up a fourth year. He’s in the hospital wing now.”

“Oh god.” Arthur groaned. “What did Mal do?”

“You know Mallory? Lovely girl-”

“Get to the point, please. and then, if you wouldn’t be bothered, promptly go to your  _ own damn seat.” _

“-Never want to be on the business end of her bat bogey hex, though. Might even send you to the hospital wing.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You sure are one for the dramatic, Eames. It’s too bad that you’re no good at it.” Arthur pulled a snide face, hoping that would dismiss Eames.

“Oh my, Arthur, I’m baffled. Pleasantly, of course.”

“And why’s that?” Arthur couldn’t help but steam at the fact that he was responding; Eames was getting a rise out of him. Which, he supposed, was even worse that he was peeved about that very thing, as it would make the proverbial goat Eames was getting so, so much larger.

“You know my name.” Eames smirked. “You actually saved a spot in that big beautiful mind of yours for my name. I am touched, Arthur.”

“I don’t need this in my life, Eames.” Arthur scowled.

“I need you in my life.” Eames winked. “I think you’re pretty.”

“Thank you.” Arthur turned back to his book, scribbling notes in the margins.

“Arthur,” He purred. “Darling, I wish there was something between us.”

“Me too.” Arthur answered cordially, flashing his pearly whites at Eames, and completely taking him aback.

“Really?” Eames perked up.

“Yeah, like a wall.” Arthur deadpanned, dropping his smile. “Go back to your seat, Mr. Eames.”


	2. Eames Tries Again

Arthur sat in the stands on the quidditch pitch, the single place he could study in the center of the venn diagram labeled “Places quiet and with fresh air” and “Places Ariadne wants Arthur to be while she’s practicing” Which was pretty much anywhere she could see him from the quidditch pitch. where she was practicing with the rest of her team. 

It wasn’t bad, per se, only the tiniest bit distracting when the shouting from the pitch would distract him from whatever he was reading at the time. He’d already gone through the two chapters for his potions class and his advanced charms class, and had decided to take a break with a bit of light reading, when someone soared up to where he was sitting in the Ravenclaw decorated stands. 

“Hey, Ari, are you almost ready to-” He stopped short when he looked up to see that it was, in fact, not Ariadne who was hovering in front of him, but Eames. “Oh, what the hell.”

“I can’t help but think that you’re here to see me.” Eames cooed, only one hand gripped toon the handle of his broom. 

“I’m waiting for Ari. She likes to pretend that I’m watching her practice. What are you doing here?”

“Ravenclaw captain wanted us to scrimmage with them. We’re way tougher than Hufflepuff-

“-If you do say so yourself.”

“-So if your house can beat us over here in Slytherin, you should be good this Saturday.” 

Arthur decided to go back to his book and ignore Eames completely. It didn’t work last time, but perhaps it would work this time.

It didn’t.

“Tell me something, Arthur.” Eames mused. “Why’s Ariadne in Ravenclaw, anyway? She’s got plenty of bravery and cunning, and is Loyal to the bone. Not that she isn’t smart and all, but I’ve been getting to know her, and I feel like at least one of her other qualities would have stood out more than just her smarts.”

“If you were paying any attention the year she was sorted, you’d know that the Sorting Hat took a whole 13 minutes with her.” Arthur said in a falsetto, so it was clear he was annoyed with the question and Eames’ presence in general.

“That was three years ago, Arthur. Bit hard to remember that long ago.”

“She broke the record for longest sorting by thirty seconds, she was quite the to-do amongst the teachers.”

“Suppose no one bothered to tell me.” Eames shrugged. “Listen, Arthur, I’d love to continue our talk over a nice warm glass of butterbeer after the quidditch match on Saturday. There’s a hogsmeade trip a few hours after.”

“No.” Arthur said flatly.

“Alright.” Eames rolled the rejection off his back easily. “In that case, I am going to have to take my leave of you.”

“Trust me, Mr. Eames, there is nothing else that you can take from me that I would more willingly part with-all.”

Eames blinked at him, entirely confused. 

“Goddamn, Eames, it’s from Hamlet. Pick up a fucking book every once in awhile, would you?”


	3. Eames, Pining Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all can thank deeds1232 for this great suggestion!!

Arthur was ever-present in the library, and, in his opinion, so should every good Ravenclaw. But of course, he didn’t have any of these lovely old wizarding books back home in the states. They were his favorite part of the entire library. Of the entire school, even.

Arthur came from a delightfully wealthy wizarding family in the states, and was treated to the finest wizarding knowledge money could buy, even shipping in a tutor freshly graduated from Hogwarts itself to teach him anything and everything that wasn’t strictly speaking using magic, as he had yet to own a wand at that age.

Even though his blood was pure and came with a pedigree, his highly esteemed parents had never been more proud than the day that he received not one, but _two_ letters on his 11th birthday, one from the American Institute of Wizardry and Witchcraft, holed up in the most obscure part of Idaho, and one from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

His parents, of course, chose the ‘more prestigious’ school to send him to, even if he had to endure a five hour flight before his three hour train ride from Platform 9 ¾ before he could even get to Hogwarts. Well worth it, he thought. (And lucky him, he wasn’t the only American accent in the bunch)

That’s beside the point, the point being, that Arthur was a regular lurk in the library. A regular lurk who, apparently, couldn’t keep his ears to himself.

The best example of this being when he was reading in the stacks, and happened to overhear a pair chatting the next stack over.

(Perhaps if they’d been _whispering_ , he wouldn’t have been able to _hear_ them. Arthur thought sullenly before continuing to listen anyway.)

“Maybe the reason he isn’t responding the way you want him to is that he’s not attracted to stalkers.” That was Dom’s voice, Arthur would recognize it anywhere. (Not like there were many American accents to choose from, even if there were a handful of them)

“I know, I know, Cobb. I just see him and I feel like I have to turn on the charm like I do with all the others.” That sounded like Eames. Arthur rolled his eyes at the thought of Eames having multiple suitors. There was no way that “‘ello petal” routine worked on everybody.

“That’s the thing, Eames. Arthur can see through bullshit. He responds to things that are more genuine.”

“So… I should send him flowers?”

Arthur could hear Dom sigh before smacking Eames, he wasn’t sure where.

“No. Be yourself.”

“That’s a bit trite, mate.”

“No, really. Show him who you really are. No tricks. No gimmicks. None of that. Be. Yourself.”

“You realize that I got into Slytherin based on my tricks and gimmicks, right?”

“I do. I also know that you’re not getting into anything of Arthur’s with that same attitude.”

Eames snorted, and even Arthur had to hold back a laugh so that he wasn’t caught eavesdropping.

“So what do I do? If you’re so good with ladies, surely you’ve got some advice to help me woo your best mate.”

Arthur rolled his eyes at that one. He was not a woman, he wasn’t even effeminate. Jesus.

“Be real with him. If he doesn’t see who you really are, he’s not going to be interested. You’re a great guy, Eames, but you’ve got to take off the mask. And quickly, too. You’ve been fawning over his ‘delicate brown eyes’ and his ‘lovely posh syntax’, whatever that means, for weeks now. Go get him, Tiger.”

"Does that mean we can trade partners in Potions class? So I can talk to him?"

"Sure, man. I'll warn him though, wouldn't want him to hex you silly. See you around, okay?"

With that, Arthur could hear Dom standing and he raced for the other end of the library, not wanting to be caught.


	4. Arthur Almost Bends

Even though Arthur knew about the switch from his previous eavesdropping, he still didn’t have to be happy about it. Even if Eames’ constant questioning was starting to be less annoying and just the tiniest bit endearing.

“So…” Eames rolled his head back so he was staring at the ceiling. “Solomon.”

“Yes?” Arthur responded to his last name instinctually. A heavy moment of silence passed. “You have my attention, Eames.”

“Oh, that’s not what I meant.”

Arthur sighed, exasperated. “What did you mean, then?”

“Your last name. I’ve never heard it before. Never met any Solomons.”

“Well, It’s my name. And you’ve met me.”

“Where does it come from?”

“My parents.” Arthur answered flatly. He was seriously getting tired of Eames asking him dumb questions instead of actually doing his potions work, like he was supposed to.

“No, no, like  _ where _ does it come from?”

Arthur nearly bashed his head against their shared cauldron. It would be a painful death, but well worth it. “Are you trying to ask me about the lineage of my name?”

“It’s a conversation, isn’t it?” Eames replied.

“And a conversation with you is just as painful as a bath full of Grindylows.”

Eames smirked. “Well, thank you for that.”

Oddly enough, Eames went back to his work after that, chopping up roots with a skilled and delicate hand, scraping them into the pot with a measured wariness. The relative silence hung between them for the next several minutes, and Arthur didn’t mind at all.

Eventually, their work dwindled to nothing more than stirring for one partner and watching for the other. That was when Arthur finally spoke up.

“It’s Hebrew.” He said softly. “Solomon.”

“So you’re…” Eames said cautiously, not wanting to scare Arthur out of the conversation. 

“Jewish. We’re Jewish. My whole family, actually.”

“Your mum, too?”

“Yeah.” Arthur leaned against their counter casually. “My dad likes to say ‘Jews marry Jews’, but…”

“I don’t know how I feel about that.” Eames frowned. “No offense.”

“No, no, I’m with you.” Arthur assured him. “My dad says a lot of things like that. ‘Jews marry Jews’, ‘Boys marry girls’, and-”

“You disagree with him?” Eames interrupted.

“Eames…” Arthur turned away, but Eames caught his wrist just in time.

“Me too.”

Arthur blinked at him, surprised at his… everything. “Eames…” Arthur glanced down at Eames’ hand, still wrapped around his wrist.

Eames let go without blinking. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Arthur waved him off without sparing him a second glance. “I’ve got to go…”

“Yeah, me too, I’ll uh, see you.” Eames turned to gather his things, but Arthur was already gone.


	5. Arthur Says Yes

It wasn’t hard to find Eames at lunchtime the next day, as he was usually the focus of a large portion of the Slytherin table.

He was charismatic, Arthur was willing to admit. People certainly loved him, that was for sure. Eames knew a little bit about everything, making it incredibly easy for him to chat with anyone around him about anything that they might be interested in. 

Which, in turn, made it impossible for Arthur to understand why Eames was so supposedly infatuated with him. He had at least a quarter of the Slytherin house hanging off of his every word as he walked them through the story of when he had sent Robert Fisher fake letters from a woman he'd made up named “Tallulah” for an entire year, causing Robert Fisher to fall deeply in love with a fake woman Eames had made up.

Just as Eames was getting to the punch line, Arthur decided to make his move.

Arthur huffed and made his way up to Eames, arms folded across his chest. “Eames.” He snapped, immediately calling attention to himself. “Come with me, please.” It sounded more like a demand when it came out of his mouth, but Arthur didn't care.

Eames stood immediately. “Be back, mates. Arthur’s more important than you lot.” He gave them a wink and followed Arthur away.

“What's this about, Arthur?”

“Just want to talk to you, Eames.”

“I’m always happy to talk to you, Arthur.” Eames purred in that stupidly cute way he always did.

“I never said I was happy about it.” Arthur crossed his arms as they strode down the corridor, towards one of the courtyards overlooking the Scottish countryside.

“Happy about talking to me?” Eames trailed behind faithfully, hands in his pockets. 

“About the whole situation really.” Arthur finally came to a stop near one of the many stone benches, but did not sit down.

“The, uh, me ‘stalking’ you situation?” Eames’ smirk faded. “Look, Arthur, I… I really like you. My way of showing you isn’t great, I’ve been trying…”

“Don’t get me wrong, your methods are, quite frankly, terrible. But I, unfortunately, am inexplicably attracted to you. And your methods are, regrettably, part of your charm.” Arthur spat it out like it was a bad thing. “You, Eames, are, for some reason, the occupation of most of my thoughts as of late. And I’d like to give it a try.”

Eames beamed. “Oh, Arthur. They say that love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind-”

“You want me to reconsider?”

“-and therefore is winged cupid painted blind.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and closed the space between them in a single stride. “Shut up, for once.” He grabbed Eames’ tie and dragged him down until their lips were pressed together, forceful yet soft.

“You just admitted you liked me, Arthur. Doesn’t give you much room to protest my shakespeare quoting.”

“I very reluctantly like you, Eames.”

“Oi, you were the one who told me to go read Hamlet. This is your fault.”

“Oh shut  _ up _ .” Arthur groaned, yanking on Eames’ tie until they were kissing again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to have Eames pine a bit more, but Arthur demanding that they date despite his previous stand on the subject was just calling to me.


	6. Snow At Hogwarts

“Ari!” Arthur shouted, chasing her down and screaming as he trudged through the snow. “Ari they’ve got me!”

Just as she turned with her wand at the ready, in an attempt to save him, he was swept up in another tornado of snow.

“Damn Gryffindors…” Ariadne growled, shooting one of them down with a confundus charm and running to Arthur’s aid. “You okay?”

Arthur brushed a heavy blanket of snow off of his winter robes. “It’s all in the name of the game, Ari. But if Ravenclaw is going to win this snow… war… thing, we need to come up with something better than enchanting snow tornados, because  _ clearly _ the Gryffindors are prepared to steal anything from us that they also know how to do.”

“We have to out-think them.” Ariadne grinned. “I think I have an idea, not sure though.”

“You’re  _ not sure _ if you have an idea or not?” Arthur scoffed, ducking an enchanted snowball. “That’s very helpful.”

“Give me a minute!” Ariadne gripped her wand tightly and sprinted away.

Arthur hesitated to follow her, and tucked his wand away for the briefest moment, so that he could fix his scarf more securely around his neck. It was awfully cold outside.

At that moment, a brash and heavily British voice called out to him. “Bet you think you’re real clever, Solomon!” 

Just as Arthur turned to face him, the insulter tackled him to the ground, burying them in the snow and… kissing him?

“Only joking, you’re just as clever as you think you are.” Eames smirked, lips still brushing Arthur’s. “Hello, darling.”

“ _ Merlin,  _ Eames, you scared the shit out of me!” Arthur smacked his shoulder petulantly. “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of a  _ war? _ ”

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Eames chided. “Aren’t you supposed to be the rational one? Not get involved in childish games such as these?”

“Not when the Gryffindors have been kicking our asses all day long!” Arthur exclaimed. “I may be smart, and logical, but I’ve got a sense of house pride!”

“That’s my boy.” Eames ducked in for another kiss, and Arthur complied, wrapping his arms around Eames’ neck and pulling him closer. 

He only stopped when a snowball exploded in their faces, accompanied by a shout of: “Fraternizing with the enemy, Bronson?!”

Eames sat up almost immediately at the voice. “Nash. Pleasant, as always.” He growled.

“Sorry, who are you?” Arthur sat up on his elbows. “I was sort of enjoying playing lip-lacrosse with my boyfriend before you so  _ rudely  _ interrupted.”

“What the hell is lip-lacrosse?” The guy shot back.

“Sorry pet, haven’t got the foggiest either.” Eames peered at him curiously.

“It’s… it’s an american muggle thing, don’t worry about it.” Arthur shrugged it off.

“Of course it is.” The guy rolled his eyes.

“Shove it, Nash.” Eames barked at him. “This whole snow tournament is supposed to be fun. Sod off.”

“It’s only fun when I don’t have to watch two poofs rolling around in the snow.” Nash crossed his arms over his chest, frowning. “It’s not much of anything but disgus-”

But before Nash could finish his train of thought, a giant enchanted snow beast barrelled into him, knocking him off of his feet and face-first into the snow before it flew off to go find a new victim.

Arthur finally pulled himself out of the snow and rushed past both Eames and Nash to find the source of the attack, wand at the ready.

However, the source was the very friendly face of Ariadne, with her apple blossom cheeks reddening from the cold. “That was my idea.” She beamed. 

“A snow dragon?” Eames mused, watching it twist around in the sky before finding another mark to take down. Upon looking for himself, Arthur determined it looked more like a snow-snake, as the wings were hard to place in the white-blue sky. 

“It’s brilliant, Ariadne.” Arthur laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. “You’re a genius.”

“Whatever, horndog.” She rolled her eyes and brushed him off playfully. “Go make out with your boyfriend, I have a war to win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's kind of a cop-out to have Nash be the quasi-homophobic asshole that picks on them all the time, but at the same time, who else would it be? an OC seems lame... Idk guys.


	7. Eames Forgets Something.

Arthur played with his tie pin impatiently, the one his parents had given him the previous christmas, the one adorned with a likeness of Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem. 

He looked up from playing with his tie pin when familiar heavy, blustering steps stumbled up to him, just in time to catch a kiss from Eames’ lips.

“Hello love.” Eames grinned. “Did I surprise you?”

“No shit.” Arthur scowled at Eames’ petulence, but leaned across and pecked Eames’ deliciously plump lips. God, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t dreamed about those lips before. 

Arthur mentally shook those thoughts from his head as Eames passed him on his way into their classroom. “Wait.” He grabbed for Eames’ elbow, but only caught him by the sleeve.

Eames raised a single eyebrow. “Snogging in the halls before class? My, my Arthur, aren’t we a rule breaker?”

“No, no, the opposite.” Arthur shoved at Eames’ broad chest, denying his attempt to steal another kiss.

“We… aren’t breaking a rule? By snogging in the hall?” Oh dear, now Arthur had confused his poor boyfriend. Eames looked like a drenched dog when he was confused, it was pathetic, honestly. 

“No, you’re… Eames, you’re out of dress code.” Arthur pointed to his collar, which was unbuttoned and not secured by a green and silver striped tie.

“Shit…” Eames looked down at himself, and then at his watch. “I don’t have time to go back, Arthur, class is almost-”

“I’ve got an extra one.” Arthur interrupted, pulling a spare tie from his robe pockets and looped it around Eames’ neck without asking.

“I can tie my own tie.” Eames pouted.

“Let me do something for you, please?” Arthur asked dryly.

“Letting Mommy dress you again, Bronson?” Nash sneered as he passed them, having appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

“Shove a sock in it, Nash.” Eames bit back, trying not to move too much, as Arthur was still knotting his own tie around Eames’ neck.

Nash halted and turned back to them, obviously antagonized. “What the hell are you doing, Eames? Is that a Ravenclaw tie?”

“I forgot mine, Arthur was kind enough to lend me his. Sod off.”

“You just carry around an extra tie?” Nash scoffed.

“It never hurts to be prepared.” Arthur barely looked up from where he was still fixing the tie around Eames’ neck. “I’d rather him look bad in blue then get a detention for being out of dress code. Lord knows Umbridge would have his head.”

Nash settled for rolling his eyes and sauntering past them into their classroom.

Eames hummed, watching Nash go. “Is it just me, or does he seem uncharacteristically quiet today?”

“I usually ignore him. To me, he’s always quiet.” Arthur shrugged and tugged Eames’ tie into place. “There. Perfect.”

“Thank you, petal.” Eames kissed his cheek affectionately.

Arthur rolled his eyes and dragged him into class.


	8. Communal Shower Adventures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to 3White_Mage3 for this great idea!!

Arthur didn’t mind watching Quidditch games, honestly, he liked the excitement and the cheering and supporting his friends, perhaps forced a bit by Ariadne at first, but he was under no duress from her now.

Watching his boyfriend play, however, was close to a completely different story. And not because of Eames’ body or athleticism was turning him on or some such nonsense, (His quidditch pads and robes were far too bulky to be revealing in the slightest, and didn’t lend much to the eye to begin with.) mostly because of the simple fact that Eames was in a different House than him, and that was a beast Arthur hated to tackle every other Saturday.

It wasn’t too bad if Ravenclaw wasn’t playing, to be honest. In those cases, Most of the house would either not show up or chose a side, and the Ravenclaw booths would be awash with swirls of green and crimson, if the case were Slytherin vs Gryffindor. In those cases, Arthur could wear as much green-and-silver as he wanted, Shout for his favorite keeper as loudly as he wanted, even make signs saying things like “You got this, babe” with a caricature of a winking man on it, or some sort of pun Ariadne had written for him the night before. (Arthur wasn’t overly creative when it came to Quidditch puns, so he typically left them to her.) 

No matter who was playing, or more importantly, who won, Arthur would wait outside the Slytherin locker rooms for Eames to emerge, probably half-properly dressed but freshly showered, and they would sit down with the rest of their friends in the Great Hall for dinner. 

This time, however, Arthur was left waiting until the entire Slytherin Quidditch team had left the locker room, all but Eames. And just when he was wondering where on Earth Eames had gotten off to, a gloved hand cupped his elbow. 

Arthur jumped about 10 feet. “Jesus, Eames, you scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry, love.” Eames smirked. He was still in all of his quidditch gear, and still sweaty and unkempt from the game.

“What are you doing?” Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes. “You’re not even dressed!”

“Mind helping me?” Eames purred, the tip of his tongue peeking out to wet his lips ever so slightly. Before Arthur could protest, Eames was dragging him into the Slytherin locker room, which was emptier than mass on Monday, and towards the sectioned off area obviously meant for showering.

“Eames, we shouldn’t be here.” Arthur whispered as if someone was going to overhear them.

“That’s what makes it so fun, love.” Eames ran his now de-gloved hands through Arthur’s windswept hair. 

“What are you planning?” Arthur grabbed both of Eames’ wrists, but made no move to stop him.

“I was planning on getting ready  _ with _ you.” Eames planted a sultry kiss to Arthur’s bottom lip before pulling away to strip off his Quidditch pads. “Will you join me?”

“You want me to… to shower with you?” Arthur swallowed thickly, suddenly nervous.

“That’s where the fun comes from, love.” Eames winked before going for Arthur’s robes. 

Arthur let him remove his robes and the slytherin scarf he’d stolen for such an occasion, kissing his neck and his collarbones slowly, sensually. Arthur’s jaw dropped and let out the smallest, most pathetic whine.

“Is that a yes, then?” Eames purred, straightening his back and chewing on his own bottom lip.

“We have to hurry.” Arthur insisted, only to be immediately dragged into a stall, warm water already spouting out of the shower head. “Jesus!” He shivered in surprise. 

“I put warming charms on it; is it still cold?” Eames asked, stripping off his final layer and stepping in after Arthur. 

Arthur turned his gaze away quickly. Eames was naked. Naked with him. In the same general area. 

_ Oh, fuck. _

“You alright, love?” Eames asked, washing himself quickly and watching Arthur’s back as he too slipped off his boxers.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, I’m…” He trailed off, ears prickling. “Did you hear something?”

Both of Eames’ hands found their way to Arthur’s hips, and he sidled up behind him. “Nothing but our hearts beating as one, love.”

Arthur spun in his grasp, nearly slipping on the slick shower floor. “Really, Eames? How do you come up with this shit? Do you read too many Nicholas Sparks books or-” He cut himself off again at the faint sound of wood creaking. “Okay, I really heard something that time.” He shoved at Eames’ chest with one hand, using the other to cover his manhood from Eames’ gaze. 

“You’re being paranoid, Darling.” Eames kissed his cheek affectionately, but Arthur was already most of the way out of his grasp, and going for his soaked boxers.

Just in time, too, as Saito, the Slytherin Prefect, walked into the communal locker room shower, his hands on his hips and a stern frown on his face. “Mr. Eames. This is a communal space.”

“Shit.” Eames muttered, turning off the water and rushing for his clothes. “No harm done, Saito.”

“Get out.”

“Right, right, of course, We’ll just be going now-” Eames gathered up all of his things, including Arthur, and darted away.

“Ten points, from each of you!” Saito shouted after them.

“I don’t know why I ever listen to you…” Arthur growled as he dressed quickly and rushed out, leaving Eames behind, half dressed and destitute. 


	9. Lay Me Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHH!! We're almost done with this fic!! Oh man. this is exciting.

“You have no idea what it took to get all the boys out for tonight.” Eames said as he led Arthur down the spiral staircase to the his dorm room, deep in the Slytherin dungeons.

“How many do you room with?” Arthur asked, his voice wavering only slightly. 

“Five, including myself.” Eames opened the door to his dorm room and ushered Arthur inside.

They’d been talking about this for about two weeks now, in whispers and passed notes in class, husky, sultry little things like “I need to find your sweet spot, Arthur Solomon. Give it all the attention it deserves.” or “Lick your lips a bit more, darling, It helps when I imagine them around my cock.”

Alright, so a lot of the flirting was coming from Eames and being received by Arthur, but he wasn’t complaining. He was just… nervous. 

It was his first time, see. First time doing… anything, really. He’d never admit it to Eames, but this guy was his first  _ kiss,  _ for fuck’s sake. And Eames was so confident, so daring, so… intimidating, if Arthur was being honest.

He couldn’t help but shake when Eames activated the lock on the door before sauntering up to Arthur and kissing him firmly on the mouth. His fingers fumbled with the buttons on Eames’ robe, so much so that he could barely get the first three undone.

When Eames finally noticed this, he paused and pulled away from Arthur, a concerned frown alighting his lips. “Are you alright, pet?”

Arthur nodded, trying to brush it off. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Which one is yours?” He gestured over his shoulder to the semi-circle of beds. Eames pointed and Arthur rushed to it, sitting on the edge of the bed awkwardly.

Eames cupped the back of his neck and leant him backwards until he was laying on Eames’ bed, with the larger boy atop him. 

Eames’ lips brushed over his, and he relaxed slightly, allowing himself to run his fingers through Eames’ hair as their kisses gradually grew more and more licentious, Eames’ tongue caressing Arthur’s. 

Arthur’s legs fell open of their own accord, and he moaned softly. “Eames…” He mumbled when the other finally dis-robed him and started on his shirt. “Eames, I’ve never-”

“Never what?” Eames purred, moving his kisses to Arthur’s tender earlobes, causing him to shudder.

“Never done… this.” Arthur glanced down at where Eames’ still clothed groin met with his own. “I’m… I’m a virgin.”

Eames shook his head and kissed Arthur softly. “I don’t mind, love. In fact, I’m honoured that you’re so… comfortable with me.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Arthur scowled.

“Hey, hey, none of that, love.” Eames kissed him between the brows, in an attempt to kiss away the furrow. “I’ve got no problem leading.”

Arthur’s mouth went dry with arousal, and he nodded for lack of anything else to say. Eames leaned up and began stripping himself, then Arthur. Before the other knew it, they were laying together in Eames’ twin bed, nothing separating them but the occasional wisp of air when they shifted. 

Eames guided Arthur’s legs around his waist, petting his thighs and making calming nonsense noises to calm him.

Arthur thread his fingers through Eames’ hair and encouraged him down until their lips brushed. He sighed against Eames’ cheek.

Eames pulled away slightly, studying Arthur's expression. “Everything feel okay?”

Arthur frowned in confusion. “What?”

“Did I hurt you?”

Arthur’s frown deepened. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve heard that the first time hurts for some people. I’m just checking to make sure you’re alright.”

Arthur couldn’t help it. He laughed.

“What?”

“You’re not even inside me, Eames.” Eames frowned, and Arthur immediately quieted. “Oh my god… you’ve never done this either.”

Eames shook his head solemnly.

Arthur cupped Eames’ cheek gently, soft eyes searching the other’s face. “Hey. Eames, look at me.” He obeyed. “We’ll figure it out together, yeah?”

Eames cracked a smile. “Yeah. Yes. Let’s do that.”

Arthur sat up and straddled Eames’ lap, pressing their lips together gently, yet wantonly. 

Eames, already kneeling, managed to scoot them up the bed until Arthur’s back rested against the headboard. 

Arthur reached behind him and felt for his magically prepared entrance. “Take your cock in hand and find my fingers. When you feel them, that’s where it is.”

Eames nodded and followed instruction cautiously but gradually building confidence. 

Arthur moaned quietly when he felt Eames press against his hole. “Fuck, come on Eames,  _ please, _ ” He begged.

Eames grunted before dropping Arthur onto himself roughly.

Arthur opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, he felt Eames press into him, the burn of being stretched sending pleasant shiver down his spine and drawing a loud moan out of his mouth. “God, fuck, Eames.” He whined, his tongue sticking out to wet his lips while his head fell back against the wall. “Fuck, so good.”

“Keep going?” Eames fingers kneaded Arthur’s ass as he continued to lower him.

“Yeah,” Arthur panted, resting one hand on Eames shoulder and digging his fingers into the skin. “Don’t you dare stop.” He mumbled, clenching around Eames cock and moaning as he pounded into him.

Eames held him close until he felt Arthur was adjusted properly, kissing him back before finally starting a slow roll of his hips. Eames gasped, moving his hands to grip BottomPosessive hips and aid him in his thrusting.

Arthur panted at his throat, trying to muffle his moans, clenching around the man and digging his fingers into his shoulder.

Eames pinned him to the mattress to get deeper, fucking into him harder and harder.

Arthur cried out in pleasure, spreading his legs wider for Eames and arching his back up from the mattress. “Fuck, Fuck, Eames.” He gasped, dragging his fingers down the man’s back as he just let the other fuck him hard and rough, clenching around him and loving every second of it.

It wasn’t much longer before he was swearing and biting down on Eames’ bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood, and cumming in a long stripe down his stomach. “Ungf, Eames…”

Eames’ breath turned shallow as he too reached his climax, plump lips drifting to Arthur’s neck and planting a series of tiny kisses there. “I like figuring things out together.”

“Me too.” Arthur carded his hands through Eames’ sweaty hair. “Think we can do it again?”

“Abso-fuckin-lutely.”


	10. First For Everything

Arthur sprinted down the corridors, wand at the ready. Of course,  _ of course _ someone thought it would be a  _ hilarious prank _ to release a classroom set of boggarts in the school come Halloween, and Head Boy Arthur had to be the one to handle that shit. It was his job specifically to round up any stragglers room by room, marking every door with a firey X when he’d finished searching it.

He was in the library when he heard it, a high pitched whistle coming from behind him.

He spun round at the unexpected catcall, wand poised, ready to strike.

“Oh, come now love. Can’t attack your boyfriend for being a pig, now can you?” It was certainly Eames’ voice, but it didn’t seem to be coming from anywhere.

“Eames?!” He hissed. “Where are you?!”

“I could give you a hint.”

“Stop playing with me. The whole school is on lockdown, I don’t need your shit.”

“A hint, then. Come sit on my face.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and with a wave of his wand, transfigured Eames from a library bench back into a human being. 

Eames grinned up at him from the floor like the stupid big dumb idiot that he was. “Hello, petal.”

“You’re too good at transfiguring yourself into other things to be failing that class.” Arthur huffed.

“I’m not failing Transfiguration.” Eames grinned. “I only told you that so you’d show me how to make water into lube.”

Arthur sighed more pointedly. “So you don’t need tutoring at all?”

“C’mon Arthur, I had to find some way to get you to spend time with me.”

“Get up, Eames.” Arthur snapped and sauntered off ahead of him, wand still pointed and ready at anything that may come at him. 

“Arthur, Darling…” Eames’ voice was shaking, and not-at-all joking. “What spell am I meant to use on a Boggart?”

“Eames, do you really not know?” Arthur spun around to find his boyfriend, wand at the ready, facing down a giant, diamond patterned snake. “Holy shit.”

“I’m fairly sure that this is one of the Boggarts.” Eames said softly, his voice wavering. “Unless Hogwarts has just got another giant snake lying around.”

“Not sure on that one. Stay still.” Arthur crept up behind him carefully before raising his wand. “Riddikulus!” 

The snake immediately morphed into a giant balloon animal, and deflated.

Arthur stepped in front of Eames with ease, presenting himself to the Boggart.

It immediately began to change again, trying to find what Arthur feared. After a few moments, Eames looked up in confusion. “It’s not choosing anything.”

The boggart kept going, never settling, always moving, kept changing, until Arthur shouted another spell, forcing it into a nearby trunk. “One down.” He said simply, locking the trunk tightly. 

“It didn’t do anything.” Eames frowned, confused. “What, are you not afraid of anything?”

“Of course I am.” Arthur huffed. “I’m afraid of things like dying, and failing.”

Eames’ frown lessened when Arthur confided in him, and he took his boyfriend’s hand. “You’re not afraid of anything that it can replicate physically. It got confused because it’s not like it can mimic something that’s a concept.”

“Could be.” Arthur shrugged. “We need to go, Eames.”

He grabbed his boyfriend’s hand ferociously, dragging him down the halls and into the Ravenclaw common room, it being the closest one to them at the time.

Ariadne rushed forward to greet them. “Did you find any?”

“Just one.” Arthur let go of Eames the second that they were in front of all of these other people. “I have to go back, Ari. Make sure nobody tries to shank him for being a Slytherin.” 

“Find Dom, he’ll make a good backup for you, luv.” Eames leaned in and pecked his lips. “I’d worry, for you, but you seem to have this handled.”

“When I get back, Eames, we’re going to have a little talk about  _ irony. _ ” Arthur said, rolling his eyes and stepping back towards the door. “I’ll be back in no time, I’m sure the other prefects and professors have already rounded up at least one each. Don’t worry about me.” 

“Come back soon and we might have enough time to celebrate in the Prefect’s bathroom.” Eames muttered, winking.

“Sounds good.” Arthur pecked his lips one last time. “I love you.” He said quickly before darting out the door in search of more boggarts.

Eames blinked at the door as it shut behind him; Ariadne cooed.

“That’s so cute! Dashing off into battle and all.”

“He’s… He’s never said that before.” Eames swallowed. “Shit.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you have suggestions for the next installment, there are 3 spots left!! message me or leave in a comment what you'd like to see. If I get a lot, I'll probably make a third installment, tbh...


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